


Got Nothing But the Whole Wide World to Gain

by faithfulpenelope



Category: Cut & Run - Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-09-30 05:04:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10154288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithfulpenelope/pseuds/faithfulpenelope
Summary: It’s not that Nick doesn’t want to marry Kelly, because he does.  If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have asked.  Twice.





	1. Chapter 1

It’s not that Nick doesn’t want to marry Kelly, because he does. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have asked. _Twice._

The first time Nick asks Kelly to marry him, he may have been half-stupid from the anesthesia and fighting the morphine to stay awake, but the moment, the _feeling_ , is perfectly clear in his memory. It’s the easiest decision he’s ever made in his life, and it leaves him feeling, for once in his life, at peace, secure that he is right where he’s supposed to be.

It lasts all of five minutes, before Liam Bell shows up and blows it all to bloody hell.

The second time Nick asks Kelly to marry him, it’s god knows how many days into Eli’s trip and they’re exhausted, physically and mentally, in a way that’s almost worse than the battlefield. His proposal is clumsy and there’s a nagging fear that their phones may start blasting salsa music at any moment, but it doesn’t change the fact that he knows that it’s right. It’s so right that the first thing he does when he’s alone is order Kelly’s ring, and a month later, gives it to him. Then they’re finally, actually living together, on the same coast, and it just feels so natural that half the time, it doesn’t even occur to Nick to bring planning a wedding into conversation, not when he can look at the ring on Kelly’s finger and know Kelly’s _his_.

But then one day, Nick can’t find him, and it’s only when he hears the ringing of bells that he puts it together. There’s a small church not far from the docks, its front doors visible from the flybridge, and Nick finds Kelly there, watching a wedding in real time. Nick resists the urge to duck back below deck and joins Kelly instead. Kelly smiles as Nick slides in close, rests his hand against Nick’s knee.

“Why haven’t you pushed me about getting married?” Nick asks, and then blinks, stunned at his own forwardness. Kelly blinks back, and then laughs.

“Been sitting on that for a while?” he says mildly, and Nick shrugs. Kelly squeezes the knee under his hand. “Because I know you need your time. And everything’s been so good these last few months, I’m perfectly happy to wait until we’ve both ready.”

Nick swallows, hard, because the relief is so strong it brings its own guilt with it. "Are you?" he asks, because he can't bear the thought that Kelly is compromising his happiness for him. "Please, Kelly, the truth. Are you?"

Kelly grips his chin, turns his face so that they're eye to eye. "I promise I am," he says solemnly. Then he cracks a grin. "Just, you know, before we're both in wheelchairs, yeah?"

Nick snorts. "I promise," he echoes, and kisses him. Kelly hums against his lips, a happy little sound. But then there's a shout below, and they both turn to see what looks to be the fathers of the bride and groom tangling on the church steps. The bride is sobbing, loudly.

"Well," Kelly says, his nose scrunched up, "whenever it happens, at least we won't have to worry about our fathers fighting at the ceremony?" He grins when Nick lets out a laugh, a loud, shocked sound. "What, too soon?"

"What am I going to do with you," Nick says, not even bothering to try and hide the wonder in his voice.

So, they go on as they have. Nick’s done with the department and Kelly with the camp – officially, at least; they both still get calls from both, not infrequently, requesting help – so while Emma fights for funding for their next expedition, they relax, spending spring at the cabin and summer on the Fiddler’s Green. Kelly hauls half his stuff east and Nick follows him back west with half of his, and it takes a few months but they stop being _Kelly’s cabin_ and _Nick’s boat_ and become _our homes_.

It’s late July, and they’re just starting a discussion about when they’ll head back to the cabin for fall when the Skype icon on Nick’s laptop starts to trill. He pulls Kelly onto the banquet next to him and clicks it open. “Ozone!”

“Irish, Doc!” Owen greets them, looking suspiciously cheerful. “Hold on, I’m getting the others on.” Two more windows blink open and there’s Ty, the stockroom of the bookstore behind him, and Digger, who appears to be in the middle of a hole. “Have you finally given up bank robbing for grave robbing?” Owen asks, perplexed, and Digger barks out a laugh.

“Septic system malfunction,” he says, and they all groan. Ty makes a soft gagging noise. “Give me a second.” The view tilts to a bright blue sky as Digger sets down the phone, and there’s a series of deep-felt grunts before Digger reappears at ground level. “What’s good, my people!”

“I appreciate you getting out of the shit hole,” Owen says dryly, “because I was calling to tell you all I asked Riley to marry me.”

It’s a riot of cheers and whistles and Nick thinks he’s never seen Owen look so happy when he tells them to clear the third week of September.

“Of this year?” Ty squawks, and Owen laughs.

"Of this year,” he confirms. “We figured, why wait, you know?”

 _Why wait._ Nick feels the words like a pit in his stomach and he fights to keep the smile on his face as they all talk over each other. Owen’s protesting, loudly, as Ty and Digger volley back and forth every embarrassing story they can think of to tell Riley. Kelly’s laughing, the sound clear and warm to Nick’s ear.

“Just for that, you’re wearing your uniforms to this thing!” Owen chastises, holding his hands out – _you brought this upon yourselves_ – when they all protest.

“What if I don’t tell her about the twins in Jacksonville?” Digger backtracks, desperate. Owen just grins.

“Owen getting married.” Kelly still sounds a little shocked, even after they’re said _goodbye_ and _congratulations_ and _we’ll see you in San Diego_. “I guess we’re growing up, huh, Lucky?” Then Kelly turns to face him and Nick finds himself tensing against what he might say. _I changed my mind,_ he hears Kelly asking. _Why haven’t you married me yet, Nick?_

If Kelly notices – and who is Nick kidding, he notices – he doesn’t say anything, just kisses him gently and pats his cheek. “Let’s get dinner started, huh?” he says instead, and Nick flushes warm, ashamed.

 _I’m going to marry you,_ he wants to say. But he just nods, squeezes Kelly’s leg. “Sure. Dinner.”

When he finally says it, it’s in the dark of the master cabin, the ship silent around them. “I am going to marry you,” he whispers into the crook of Kelly’s neck as the other man sleeps, his breathing steady. He feels stupid whispering in the dark, feels even stupider that his heart beats a little faster just saying the words, but he needs to say them. The road to the altar, it has to start somewhere, and a whispered promise in the dark seems just an appropriate a place as any.

Kelly, vigilant even in sleep, rolls closer as if he senses Nick’s distress, his fingers skating warm over Nick’s belly. Nick lets himself relax into Kelly’s heat, feels some of the tension release. “I’m going to marry you,” he whispers again, and this time, his heartbeat stays steady.


	2. Chapter 2

“You’re watching this storm, right?” Kelly says by way of greeting, and Nick rolls his eyes, switches his phone to the other ear.

“Yeah, Kels, I’m on it.”  A nor’easter is making its way along the Canadian border, constantly threatening to swing south, but the latest forecast playing across Nick’s television has it moving across Maine and out to sea.  He wouldn’t have to worry about it at all, had his original plans of spending a few days with Kelly at the cabin before they headed to San Diego held.  But Alan Hagan had called, asking for help on a case, and there was no way Nick was going to say no.  Not with all the times Hagan had covered his ass; he’d earned his loyalty in warrant checks alone.

“I’m sorry I’m not gonna be able to get out there early,” Nick says again, and Kelly makes a soft  _tsk_ noise, his way of telling Nick he didn’t need to apologize.

“You realize I’m the reason we’re apart in the first place, right?”  The camp had called; they’d lost their head counselor right before the biggest trip of the season and Kelly’d agreed to help, flying out the next day.  He’d ended up spending three and a half weeks with the camp, out of cell range in the Colorado mountains.   Nick had spent the three weeks trying desperately to ignore the loneliness in his gut, the sense that he had become utterly dependent on Kelly’s touch, his smell. “Besides, I won’t be too lonely.  I found somebody else to come keep me company.”

Nick pauses, and then says, archly, “oh,  _really?_ ”

“Digger called this morning.  He asked if he could stay over on his way out.”

“It’s that far from Louisiana to California that he needs a day’s layover?”

“Maybe he just likes my company,” Kelly argues, and Nick snorts, leans down to grab his uniform shoes from the back of his closet.  “Or maybe he wants to make sure I’m the first to meet his  _girlfriend_.”

Nick stands up so fast, he knocks his head against the closet shelf.  “His –  _ow.  ­_ His  _what_?”

“You heard me,” Kelly says, the grin obvious in his voice.

“Holy shit.”  The rest of them, they’d cycled through relationships, but Digger – Digger was the perpetual bachelor, and happy about it.  For him to bring a girl to Owen’s wedding, it had to be serious.  “Where’d this girl come from?”

“He said they met online.”

Nick’s eyes narrow in suspicion.

“And then in person,” Kelly clarifies, “so stop squinting.”

Nick huffs out an annoyed breath, and Kelly laughs.

“He said he told Owen about her, so I’m sure a background check’s been done.”  Nick would laugh if he wasn’t so sure it was true.  “Anyway, I think he’s looking to test the waters a bit.  Maybe introduce us a little a time instead of tossing her in the deep end.”

Nick makes a disapproving noise.  “There’s his first mistake.  You gotta just introduce us all at once, get it over with.  Like ripping off a band-aid.”

“So you’re saying meeting us stings and leaves a red mark?  I guess Garrett would probably agree with you.”  There’s a short pause as Kelly’s brain whirls.  “Hey!  If she’s nervous I can tell her at least she’s not meeting us blind, and when she says oh no, she’s been warned, I can say, ‘no,  _literally_  blind!’ and tell her  _that_ story.”

The laughter rumbles deep in Nick’s chest.  “You’re insane,” he says fondly.

“Yeah, well, you asked me to marry you,” Kelly retorts without missing a beat.  His voice is playful, and Nick isn’t sure if it makes the sharp spike of panic he feels at the words  _you asked me to marry you_  better or worse.  “So what does that say about you?”

For a long moment Nick’s quiet, not sure what to say.  He hears Kelly’s even breathing on the other end of the line, uses it to bring his own under control.  “I am, you know,” he says finally.

“What, insane? I hate to tell you, Nicko, but we knew that already.”

“No,” Nick says, quiet.  “Going to marry you.”

There’s a soft exhalation of air as Kelly breathes out a gentle  _Nick_.  “I know you are,” he says, steady as ever, and Nick pulls the phone away from his mouth so he can let out a jagged sigh of relief, “or I wouldn’t have this ring on my finger.”

Nick nods, before he remembers Kelly can’t see him.  “Okay,” he says instead.  “As long as you know that.”

“Glad we’re on the same page,” Kelly teases gently, and Nick huffs out a laugh.  “All right.  I gotta go.  If I don’t get to the dry cleaners today I think he might give my uniform away with the other unclaimed stuff."

“Now that would be tragic.  I love you in that uniform.”

“Don’t know why,” Kelly grouses.  “You guys all look badass in yours.  I look like a dweeby aide from the 50’s.”

“You could always wear your whites,” Nick suggests, if for no other reason than he knows Kelly hates them even more than his blues.  Sure enough, Kelly scoffs.

“So I can look like the Good Humor Man instead?  Thanks but no thanks, babe.”

“Well, how about this.”  Nick shoves his suitcase over, flops down on his back on his bed.  “Instead of thinking about how uncomfortable you feel wearing it, think about how good it’ll feel when I’m taking it off you.”

There’s a long pause before Kelly rumbles out, “I do like that better.”  He lets out a shaky breath.  “Fuck, I can’t wait to see you, Nicko.”

Nick lets his eyes his eyes drift shut, lets himself picture Kelly underneath him.  “Me too, Kels,” he says, quiet.  “Me too.”

Kelly sighs.  “Well, shit,” he says, a little morose.  “Now I have to go to the dry cleaners with a hard-on.”

The laugh catches Nick off-guard and he chokes a little, has to roll to his side to ease the coughing.

“I’m glad my pain brings you amusement!” Kelly complains, but he’s laughing too.

Nick manages to right himself, takes a long pull from the Gatorade on his nightstand to clear his throat.  “He’s gonna think you’re angling for a discount,” he says.

“ _Please, Mr. Rodriguez, I keep getting these strange stains on the front of my pants_.”  Kelly’s voice is low and breathy, like a deranged Jessica Rabbit, and Nick spits his drink clear across the room.   "Ha!  Spit take!"

"You fucker," Nick gasps out, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.  “If I got juice in my luggage you’re gonna get it.”

“Ooh, tell me more,” Kelly purrs, and Nick has to laugh, even as he mops Gatorade from his pants.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you,” he mutters, but he loses Kelly’s response to the beep of an incoming call.  “Shit.  That’s Hagan.”

“Go,” Kelly says.  “I love you.  And keep an eye on that storm, yeah?”

“You got it,” Nick promises.  “See you in a few days.”


	3. Chapter 3

Nick keeps an eye on the storm, all right.  He watches as it takes a sudden, drunken turn southeast and comes barreling towards Boston like the city owes it money.

He leaves Hagan with a short list of suspects and makes for the yacht, gets her locked down against the coming storm, but the wind and rain won’t be denied.  He’s loading his bags when the alert comes in that his flight’s been delayed.

He takes one look at the sky and sighs.  “Delayed, my ass,” he mumbles, and texts,  _flight’s all but cancelled_.   _Gonna try for Bradley_.

It’s Owen that texts back first.   _We’ll get your tickets sorted out._   _Just get your ass out here._

 _You got it,_  Nick writes back, then jumps in the Rover and makes haste for Hartford.  The weather is better across the Connecticut line but Bradley International is still a shitshow, its usual traffic suddenly doubled with panicked Bay Staters.  When he checks his mail, he sees his new ticket has him landing in Dallas.   _Working on the next leg_ , Ty’s written at the bottom of the email.

 _Thanks, Six,_ Nick sends back, before he tosses his phone, jacket, and shoes in a bucket alongside his pack.  “It’s gonna go off,” he tells the TSA agent on duty, who immediately tenses and pulls him to the side.  Nick turns out his pockets, holds his arms wide as the agent scans him with a hand wand.  “Shrapnel in my thigh bone.  Here.”  The laminated card he’s holding bears the seal of Massachusetts General and the signature of his orthopedist on one side and an x-ray on the other, the small chunk of metal a stark white against the grey of the bone.  The agent inspects the card, then nods to the tattoo on Nick’s forearm.

“Marines?” he asks.

“Yes, sir.”

“IED?”

“Suicide bomber,” Nick says tightly.  The man makes a soft humming noise.

“Army,” he says, then taps his own head.  “Mine in the middle of the road.” Nick just nods in understanding, and the agent hands him back his card.  “Have a good day, sir.”

Nick thanks him, jams his feet in his boots as he grabs his bags and makes for the gate listed on his ticket.   _Card worked_ , he texts.  Kelly had been bugging him to ask his doctor for the card for a while, and Nick, tired of having to race for his gate after getting held up by the TSA, had finally given in.

 _Told you_ , Kelly writes back.   _No more dropping trou in the middle of the airport for you!_

Nick snorts.   _Don’t jinx it._

The flight to Dallas gets in on time but he’s forced to wait three hours for a connecting flight to San Diego – “it’s that or switch planes in Vegas, and I figured you’d want to avoid the ex-wife,” Digger tells him gleefully, Owen cackling in the background – and it’s one in the morning by the time he’s hailing a cab outside San Diego International.  The cabbie whistles low when Nick gives him the address, and as they pull up forty minutes later, Nick can see why.  Kelly had warned him the house was huge but  _this_ , this isn’t a house, it’s a  _castle_ , a veritable Biltmore right on the Pacific.

“Jesus,” Nick says, and the cabbie grunts.

The house is quiet as Nick lets himself in with the code Owen forwarded him, and makes his way to the third floor in the dark.  He knows he and Kelly are in the east wing, their room connected to Ty and Zane’s by the bathroom, so he sticks his head in the first room to see who’s where.  The door creaks, and something in the dark rustles.

“What’s the matter,” a rough voice says, deep and Texan, and Nick ducks back.

“Sorry, Garrett,” he whispers.  “Wasn’t sure which room was which.”

“Nick,” Zane says, and the lamp snaps on.  They both flinch against the bright light.  “Hey, man.  You made it.”

“Go back to sleep before you wake the beast,” Nick tells him, but it’s too late, Ty’s tugging his head out from underneath the pillow.  He squints at his husband and grunts his displeasure.

“It’s my fault,” Nick says, and Ty twists around.

“Irish,” he mumbles, and waves Nick over.  Nick comes to stand by the bed.  “Finally.  Flights okay?”

“Yeah.  Thanks for your help.”  Ty goes to respond but a giant yawn spills out instead.  “Seriously, man.  I was just trying to figure out the room situation. Go back to sleep.”

“Okay,” Ty says, yawning again, giving Nick’s hip a pat before he slumps back down, one arm sneaking out to wrap around Zane’s waist.  “Night, Irish.”

“I think Kelly was trying to wait up for you,” Zane murmurs as he twists to turn off the light.  “He was pretty miserable without you.”

“He’s not the only one,” Nick says quietly, and cuts through the joint bathroom.  Sure enough, the bedside light is on, and Kelly is stretched out on top of the covers, naked except for his boxer briefs.  He’s asleep but there’s a book on his chest, and the reading glasses he swears he doesn’t need perched on his nose.

Nick feels his breath catch at the sight.

He sets down his pack and jacket, toes off his boots before he sits at the edge of the bed and gently lifts the glasses from Kelly’s face and sets them and the book on the nightstand.  Then he lays a hand on Kelly’s flat stomach.  “Kels,” he whispers.  “Hey.”

Kelly takes a deep breath, comes awake all at once, the way the Navy trained him to.  When he sees Nick, he relaxes, a slow smile blooming.  “Nick,” he breathes, and Nick smiles back.

“Hey, babe,” he murmurs, and then Kelly’s kissing him, tugging him down onto the bed to lay on top of him.  Kelly’s bare skin is warm under his hands, and Nick moans as he strokes Kelly’s back, his sides.

“You’re finally here,” Kelly whispers, and Nick knows he doesn’t just mean the storm and the missed flights.  Kelly’s hands are on his belt buckle, pulling the leather loose, and Nick pushes up on his hands just enough to help him get his jeans off.  He sits back, pulls his shirt over his head, and Kelly follows, rolls them so that he’s on top.

“You were sleeping.  We should be sleeping,” Nick says breathlessly.  It’s a nonsensical thing to say, because there’s no way he’s stopping, not when Kelly’s pressed up against him, his mouth leaving a wet trail down Nick’s neck.

“Nobody’s doing anything until you come for me,” Kelly growls, wraps his hand around Nick’s cock, and Nick feels the shudder go all the way down his spine.

“Yeah, okay,” he agrees, a grateful surrender.  He pushes Kelly’s underwear away, takes them both in hand, his fingers tangling with Kelly’s as they stroke.  “Missed you.  Missed this,” Nick pants, and Kelly moans softly, his hair brushing Nick’s chin as he nods against him.  Then Kelly’s mouth is on his again, his tongue stroking against Nick’s in time with the thrust of his hips, and it’s way too soon but Nick can feel the longed-for tingle in his toes, his fingertips, spreading fast.  Kelly pulls back, breaking the kiss, and Nick can’t help the whimper that escapes, but Kelly makes a soft soothing sound, presses his lips to Nick’s ear. 

“Let go,” Kelly orders, his voice rough and low, and Nick gasps but obeys, his hips thrusting a few last times before he spills over their hands, his back tight.  _That’s it, that’s it_ , Kelly’s whispering, and then his voice cuts out, the hand on Nick’s neck squeezing tight as he follows right behind.


	4. Chapter 4

Sleep comes fitfully, even with Kelly pressed up against his back, his system thrown off by travel and stress and the complete stillness of a bed on dry land.  He’s floating on the cusp between consciousness and sleep when he feels Kelly roll away.  He cracks an eye open; the clock reads 7 a.m.

“Go back to sleep,” Kelly says quietly.  “Just hitting the head.”

Nick lets his eyes drift back shut.  The window’s open, letting in the soft pulse of the waves hitting the beach, and he relaxes into the familiar sound.  Then the bed dips down behind him, and Nick takes in the soft smell of rosewood and some else.  Something…tangier.  Something like…lighter fluid?

His eyes snap open to see Digger’s smiling face.

“Jesus Christ,” Nick breathes.  “Now that’s a fucking nightmare.”

“Fuck you too, Rico,” Digger says, but he’s laughing.  Nick grins, pats his cheek.  “Good to see you, buddy.”

“You too, man.”  Nick suddenly stiffens, his eyes darting over to the door.  “I’m not going to meet your girl in my underwear, am I?”

“In your underwear and in bed with her boyfriend,” Kelly chimes in as he climbs back into bed.  Nick twists around, manhandles himself and Kelly until he’s on his belly between Kelly’s legs, his head on Kelly’s hip.  He shoves at the t-shirt Kelly’s put on until he can rest against bare skin.  Kelly huffs out a bemused laugh.  “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

“To answer your question,” Digger says, “Genie is downstairs with Riley and her ladies.  I couldn’t risk her being blinded by you in all your...” He waves a hand. “ _Charm-filled nakedness_.”

“My  _what_?”

“What are we talking about?” They turn to see Ty in the doorway of the shared bath, his brow crinkled in a slightly concerned expression.  “All I heard was  _charm-filled nakedness_.”

“Digger’s afraid Genie will try to run away with Nick if she’s sees him in his undies,” Kelly clarifies.  Ty pauses, tilts his head as if in thought, then shrugs.

“Valid,” he admits.  He lays across the bottom of the bed, feeling around over the covers until he finds Nick’s calf.  He adjusts it like he would a pillow before laying his head down.  “Irish is pretty hot.”

“Irish is  _right here_.”

“Aw, you’re embarrassed,” Digger says, gleeful.  Kelly laughs as Nick shoves at his shoulder in mild protest.  “How  _cute_.”

“Shut it,” Nick mumbles, more out of principle than true offence.  He flexes the calf under Ty’s head.  “Where’s Garrett?”

“He’s –  _quit it_ , I was comfortable – he’s in the library.  Because this place has a legitimate  _library_ , apparently.”

“And it’s not like you own a bookstore, or anything,” Digger muses.

“Seriously.  But one of Riley’s uncles made the mistake of telling him it’s full of hard-to-find stuff.  Zane geeked out so hard I thought he was going to bust a blood vessel.”

“Uncle Randall.  I thought he and Zane would get along.”  Owen pushes himself off from the doorframe he’s resting on and comes closer, surveys the bed with a critical eye before he negotiates over Digger to the middle of the bed.  He wiggles his fingers and Kelly hands over a pillow.  He fluffs it, props it up against Ty’s side, and lays down with a relieved sigh.  “That’s better.”

“What is this place, man?” Nick asks, and Owen sighs.

“Riley grew up around here, spent her childhood fantasizing about getting married at this place.  We didn’t think we had a chance until we called and found out they’d had a major cancellation.  Next thing I knew…” He waves his hands.  “ _Voila_.  San Simeon-lite, here we come.”

“It’s…something,” Kelly says neutrally.  Owen snorts.

“That’s one word for it.”  His phone pings once, then twice.  Owen looks at it thoughtfully, then drops it under the bed.

“Are you hiding right now?” Digger teases.  Owen shrugs, stretches out a leg.  Nick grabs at the foot that comes dangerously close to his nose and tucks it down.

“Hiding out, taking a mental health break.  Call it whatever you will.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Look.  You don’t understand, they’re talking about  _processional order_  again,” Owen says, a little pitiful.  “I made a joke about going in rank order and they all just stared at me so I bugged out.”

“Smart,” Ty says, giving Owen’s hair a pat.

Owen twists his head around and for a long moment he just looks at Ty.  When he speaks, his voice is hesitant.  “Look, Ty –”

“Oh my God,” Ty booms, and the other three jump in shock.  Digger glances at Nick, who just shrugs.  “Owen, we’ve gone over this.”

“I just want to make sure –”

“ _Owen_.”

“What the hell is going on?” Kelly blurts out, and Ty sighs.

“Owen feels bad Zane isn’t a groomsman,” Ty explains, and Owen shifts, uncomfortable.  Nick flicks his eyes up towards Kelly, who makes a small face back.  They’d had this discussion themselves, when Owen had told them his side of the bridal party would be only the Sidewinder boys.  “Despite the fact that we have  _both_  told him  _repeatedly_  it’s not a problem.”

“I just – look, we didn’t get off on the best foot,” Owen says, the guilt about his initial reaction to Ty and Zane being together obviously still heavy on his soul.

“That was a long time ago,” Digger says, giving Owen’s foot a pat.  “Look what’s happened since.”

“We’re passed that,” Ty agrees, “me  _and_ Zane.”

“I just don’t want him to think I think any less of him.  Because I don’t.  He’s one of us now, Ty.  But –”

His voice cuts off, a strangled little sound. 

Ty rests a hand on Owen’s shoulder, gives it a soft squeeze.  “But he’s not Eli,” he says quietly, and the room goes still.

For a long moment they’re all quiet, awash in the memory of their lost teammate.  Nick curls his hand tighter around Kelly’s hip, feels Kelly’s fingers press closer where they’re wrapped around the nape of his neck.  Eli’d been the best of them in so many ways and it had only been his letters from beyond the grave, and the trip he’d detailed within them, that had allowed them to get back to this place, piled up in bed together with no secrets, no animosity between them.

“No one could ever replace Eli,” Ty says, quiet and sad, but sure.  “Not Zane, not anyone.  We know that.  Zane knows that.  It’s okay, Owen.”

There’s a soft noise as Owen exhales.  “Okay,” he says finally.  He blinks away a tear.  “Fuck.  Okay.”  He grasps the hand on his shoulder.  “Thanks, Ty.”

“I miss him so much when shit like this happens,” Digger says.  His gaze is fixed on the ceiling but his eyes are wet.  “He fucking loved a good wedding.”

“He sure made sure I was shiny enough for mine,” Kelly says dryly, a small smile playing at his lips, and Nick huffs out a laugh at the memory of bags of sequins everywhere.  Kelly sighs.  “I still feel like he’s going to walk through the door at any moment.  Tells us all to move our fat asses over, he’s coming in.”

“I still whistle Elvis in the shower,” Owen admits.   “Didn’t even realize I did it until Riley pointed it out.  Now all I can think it’s not the same without him to harmonize with.”

“I do that too.” Ty smiles.  “Elvis and Selena.”

“Oh, I forgot about the Selena,” Digger breathes.  He starts to hum, softly, and Nick recognizes it as the chorus of  _Dreaming of You_.

“How many girls do you think he serenaded with the song?” he asks, and Kelly groans.

“A lot, if my time on the couch was any indication.”

Nick pats his hip in sympathy.

“The uniforms were Riley’s idea,” Owen says suddenly, his voice thick.  “I didn’t want them but she did because her dad and uncle were in the service and wanted to wear theirs.  But when I went to protest I couldn’t tell her the truth.  That I didn’t want them because the last time we wore them was Eli’s funeral.”  He lets out a hoarse little laugh.  “Figured it would be kind of a disproportional response.”

Nick swallows hard around the lump in his throat.  “Yeah, that’s the kind of bomb you save,” he jokes weakly, feels Kelly snort underneath him.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.  Plus, I’m trying to keep her stress down.  What with the wedding and planning and, uh…” his voice trails off and he looks up at the ceiling, his face tight.

“Owen?”

“She’s pregnant,” Owen whispers.  “Riley.  She’s pregnant.”  He lets out a shaky breath.  “I’m gonna be a dad.”

“Oh shit,” Digger says.  He pushes up on an elbow.  “And we’re, you know –”

“What –  _oh.  Oh._ We’re happy about it,” Owen confirms with a wet laugh, and there’s a collective sigh of relief.  “Yes.  Shit.  Sorry.  Yes.  This is good.”

“Thank fuck,” Digger blurts out.  He grins.  “Holy shit, Owen.”

“You’re gonna be a dad,” Nick breathes.  “ _Ozone._ A fucking  _dad._ ”

“Get the fuck over here,” Kelly cries, shoving Nick over so he can launch himself at Owen, pulling him into a grabby hug.  Digger follows behind, and Nick yelps as he ends up – as always – at the bottom of the pile.

“We are gonna crazy-uncle the  _shit_  out of this kid,” Ty proclaims gleefully from somewhere up above.  “Congratulations, man.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Owen wheezes.  “Okay –  _ow_ , that’s my  _kidney_ – listen, you assholes can’t say  _anything_  to  _anyone._ And you  _really_ can’t tell Riley I told you.”

“I’m gonna tell Zane,” Ty pipes up, unashamed.  Owen just grunts as if to say,  _he doesn’t count_.

“Tell Zane what?”

Nick can’t see what happening but he can hear Owen’s undignified squeak and feel him twist around, shifting the entire pile.  A moment later there’s a particularly Ty-sounding thump, and the pile above him loses about 180 pounds.

“Ow,” Ty says pitifully from the floor.

“The CIA teach you how to lurk like that?” Owen complains, and Zane laughs.

“It’s not lurking it you knock, man.”

Nick shoves at the ass in his face, is about to politely request that  _you assholes get the fuck off of me_  when Digger says, “hey, baby,” all sweetness and cheer, and Nick freezes.

“Digger,” he says finally, sounding woeful even to his own ears, “I  _specifically_ requested I not be in my underwear for this.”

A hand pats his bare stomach.

“Baby, meet – well, hold on.”  There’s shifting limbs everywhere and then, suddenly, Nick’s left cold and alone, flat on his back in the middle of the bed.  “Genie, Irish.  Irish, say hi.”

Nick closes his eyes, takes a deep, steadying breath, and reminds himself he did not serve as many years in hell with these men only to kill them now.  Then he stands, squares his shoulders, and sticks out a hand. “Nicholas O”Flaherty,” he says, as if he’s not nearly naked but for the same boxers he’d been wearing for…well, way too long.

Genie’s clearly battling a fight between horrified and amused, but she gracefully takes his hand.  “Eugenia DuBois,” she says, her accent a softer, more melodic version of Digger’s.  “You can call me Genie.”

“Nick,” he says.  “Or, you know, Irish.”

“Or Lucky,” Ty supplies.

“Rico.”

“Nicko.”

“Or just O.”

Genie purses her lips.  “I’ll just go with Nick,” she says diplomatically, and Nick gives a curt nod.

“I would appreciate that,” he says, “as well as you excusing me.  So I can…” he clears his throat, waves his hand towards his lower half.  “Put some pants on.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Genie murmurs.

“Now why would you do a silly thing like that?”

“Oh for the love of –  _oh.  OH_ ,” Nick sputters out, because suddenly Riley’s right there, wrapping him up in a tight hug.  He glares over her shoulder, a silent plea for  _a little warning, would you,_  but Zane just grins and shrugs a shoulder.  Ty snickers.

 _Assholes_ , Nick mouths.

“What’s that?” Riley says.

“Nothing,” he says hastily, breathing a little easier as she finally pulls away.  “Nice to see you again, Riley.”

“You, too,” she says.  She leans back, gives him a look up and down that’s blatant enough that Owen makes a protesting noise.  “And  _you_.”  Riley turns to her fiancé.  “Hiding with your friends?  Really?”

“It was a mental health break,” Owen protests loudly.  “Riley, sweetheart, I love you.  But I’m not coming downstairs until you promise I don’t have to talk about processionals anymore.”

“Oh, we’re done with that,” she promises.

“Thank God.”

“We’ve moved on to the bridal party dance.”

“Oh,  _God_.”

“Buck up,” Riley orders.  “We need all of you downstairs in ten.  Nick, you should probably get dressed.  Or not.  Depends on how much you want to get groped by my cousin Andrea.”

“Is  _not at all_  an option?” Nick asks weakly as Kelly protests with an offended  _excuse me_.  Riley just laughs, slaps his ass as she passes.

“Nobody gropes Nick but  _me,_ ” Kelly hollers after her, and, as if to prove his point, reaches around, grabs Nick’s ass and squeezes, hard.  Nick goes up on his toes and lets out a shocked howl.

“ _Kelly!”_

“What is  _going on_?” Zane asks, but Ty’s laughing too hard to answer.  Genie just arches a brow.

“I told them, man,” Digger says.  He shakes his head, resigned to the situation.  “Charm-filled nakedness.”


	5. Chapter 5

Nick should have known Ty would track him down.

Granted, he’s not exactly hiding – it’s a shared balcony between the two guest rooms – but three stories up feels quiet and remote from the mayhem on the beach, where the bridal party, having been released from any official duties for the afternoon, is frolicking.  Ty doesn’t say anything, just pats his shoulder and hands him a fresh beer before taking the other chair.  Nick waits for him to sit, then clicks his bottle to Ty’s.

“Thanks, babe.”

“You got it.”  Ty swings his feet up on the railing and stretches long.  “Shit, I could get used to this weather.”

“Don’t I know it.  Hagan texted me that it rained for  _nine_  hours after I left.”

Ty shivers, as if he’s the one sitting in the storm.  Down below, Kelly and Digger are playing chicken with Genie and one of Riley's bridesmaids, and Nick and Ty watch as Genie takes the unsuspecting girl down with a wicked twist and shove maneuver that wouldn't be out of place in combat training.  Ty whistles in appreciation.  "I like that girl," Nick says, and Ty hums.

"She is something," Ty agrees as the bridesmaid resurfaces, sputtering. Kelly helps her up, flashes her a smile, and she smiles back through a curtain of tangled hair.  "So," Ty says, and the faked casualness in his voice sets Nick on immediate alert, “how does Kelly feel about Owen getting married?”

It’s a set-up, plain and simple, and Nick side-eyes Ty, who stares obtusely forward, his face a mask of forced innocence.  Nick snorts.

“Coy doesn’t look good on you, Tyler.  You ain’t nearly pretty enough.”

“I’m plenty pretty,” Ty rejoins evenly.  “Zane told me so.”

Nick rolls his eyes.  “Ignoring the obvious conflict of interest there, just ask the question you  _really_  want to ask.”

“Fine.”  Ty turns his gaze to Nick.  “How does Kelly feel about you guys still not being married?”

Nick leans back in the deck chair.  “How long have you been sitting on that one?”

“Since about the time the invitation came in the mail,” Ty says, unashamed.  “Now answer the question.”

This time it’s Nick that turns his gaze away, fixes it on some far-off point.  “He understands that there are… circumstances.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” Ty asks dryly, and Nick shoots him a look.  “Okay, fine.  So you have some things to work out.  But you’re telling me you’re not going to get married until you can figure out how to get Colorado and Massachusetts to border each other?”

“It’s not just that.  The thought of planning a wedding…” Nick huffs out a breath.  “Do I invite my sisters?  My mom?”

“Paddy Whelan,” Ty mutters under his breath, and Nick shrugs as if to say,  _yeah, him too_.

“So elope.  Me and Zane did it.”

“And now your mothers are planning a vow-renewal ceremony that’s gonna be seen from space,” Nick counters.  Ty laughs.

“Point,” he admits.  “The first time Beverly called my cell I thought for sure someone was dead.  Turns out she wanted to talk about how orchids won’t hold up in the Texas heat.”

“That’s…horrifying.”

“It was.”  Ty leans forward.  “So you don’t want to plan a wedding, and you don’t want to elope.”

“It’s not that I don’t  _want to_  –”

“It’s just that you think you don’t deserve to be married to him.”

The breath rushes out of Nick’s chest and he sits up, fast.  “ _Jesus,_  Ty.”

“Am I wrong?”

Nick opens his mouth before he realizes he doesn’t know what to say, and clicks it back shut.  “We’re better,” he says finally.  “ _I’m_  better.  Eli’s trip, it helped get rid of a lot of that… _shit_  between us.  It got the last of the secrets out.  And he’s still here, so…” He squints into the distance.  “I don’t know if I’ll ever really believe I deserve him, but I do believe we’re in this together.  That  _he_  wants to be in this together.  And I’m done looking for forgiveness when there’s none that needs to be given.”

The smile playing at Ty’s lips is small but pure, and he grabs Nick by the scruff of the neck, gives him a little shake.  “That’s good, Irish,” he says quietly, and Nick just nods, leans into his touch.  “I’m going to ask you one more question.  And I’d like you keep in mind that I am one of your oldest and best friends, and thus refrain from punching me.”

Nick huffs out a short laugh.  “I’ll take it into consideration.”

“Also, that anything you say stays between the two of us.”

“Spit it out, Ty, before I punch you just on principle.”

Ty drops his hand, leans back and looks at him intently.  “Do you want to marry Kelly?”

His first instinct is to protest but it dies in his throat.  As much as he wants to fight it, the question is, given his history, a legitimate one.  “I do,” he says, making sure to meet Ty’s eyes so he can see the truth behind it.  “I do want to marry him.”

“Okay.” Ty gives a sharp nod.  “You understand why I asked that, right?  Because I know you, Irish.  You love that man, and you would sacrifice anything to keep him from hurt.  Even yourself.”  He taps Nick’s knee again.  “ _Especially_  yourself.”

“Yeah,” Nick says weakly.  “I know.”

“So you want to marry him.  Why?”

Nick squints his eyes.  “What do you mean, why?  I love him –”

“You love him,” Ty echoes over top of him.  “Yeah, yeah, we know that.  But why do you want to  _marry_  him?”

“I –” Nick’s voice cracks a little.  “I thought  _because I love him_ was the right answer?”

Ty laughs.  “It’s  _part_ of the answer,” he allows.

“Ty…” There’s a blush creeping up his neck, which is ridiculous, because this is  _Ty_ , the man who’d seen him at his best and his worst and everything in between, so what did he have to be embarrassed about.  “Because I want to be his husband.  I want to stand up before man and God and let them all know I love him and want to spend the rest of my life with him.  I look at him and I – I see my future, you know?  I see us sitting on the deck of the cabin or the flybridge, old and achy and still cracking on each other.”  He gives a soft chuckle.  “I updated my fucking will, for Christ’s sake.  And you know how I hate dealing with shit like that.”

“I do,” Ty says solemnly.

“I just –” Nick swallows hard.  “I had this nightmare once that I kicked the bucket and no one told him.  That they took the boat and wouldn’t let him on, that they didn’t tell him about the funeral and he couldn’t get to any of my benefits –” His voice cuts out and he shakes his head, cheeks pink.  “Is that crazy?”

“Not at all,” Ty says firmly.  “I had the same dream, our last deployment.  I dreamt I died and Zane was left alone in Baltimore, wondering what the hell happened.”  He shrugs.  “Why the hell do you think I kept asking him to marry me?”

Nick chuckles, a little relieved he isn’t alone.  “I want him to be able to go to the government when I die and claim the benefits due to him as my partner,” he says, his voice stronger, steadier.  “I want there to be no question as to who I spent my life with and who everything should go to.”  He risks a look up and immediately groans, because Ty’s giving him his proud papa look, eyes misty and lips turned up in a little smile.  “Oh, Christ.  Please don’t, Ty.”

“I’m just happy for you,” Ty says, a little weepy.

“ _Beaumont_.”

“I’m serious!” Ty protests, and Nick relents, lets Ty ruffle his hair.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, but he’s smiling.

“Okay then,” Ty says, seemingly satisfied.  Nick sags back in the chair, feeling worn out, not unlike he just made it through an interrogation.  “So let me ask you again, Irish.  What in the fuck are you waiting for?”

There’s a long pause before Nick finally gives up and admits the truth.  “I don’t know.”

To Nick’s surprise, Ty just rises from his chair and gives Nick’s shoulder a final pat.  “Well,” he says, his voice patient but resolved.  “You should really see about doing something about it, don’t you think?”

The door slides shut behind him, and Nick lets out a deep breath.

“Yeah,” he says to the quiet.  “I guess I should.”


	6. Chapter 6

The wedding is perfect.

The day dawns clear and cool, the sky and ocean perfectly calm, a painting come to life. Riley’s late – some sort of wardrobe malfunction, whatever that means – but the look of fond exasperation on Owen’s face tells Nick his friend considers it part of her charm. When she does finally appear, she’s glowing, a vision in very pale pink, and Nick can’t even tease Kelly for his tears, because his own eyes are wet as Riley and Owen exchange their vows. He tries to focus on the words, but it’s hard when Kelly’s standing so close, right in front of him, not when all he can see is Kelly, the high collar of his uniform revealing the tiniest sliver of tanned skin.  Not when all he can hear, think, feel is, _I want this with him._

It trips something in him, some last barrier, and as Owen and Riley kiss, he realizes: _he’s done waiting._

It’s a heady feeling, relief and a new fear that doesn’t so much sour in his stomach as warm up his chest, an anticipatory thrill. He wants to grab Kelly, tell him, _I’m ready,_ and he finds his hand reaching out just as the processional march starts up. _Still in the middle of Owen’s wedding, stupid_ , he realizes, and yanks his hand back, bites off a laugh.

 _After the reception_ , he thinks. He’s waited this long. He can wait a bit longer.

The reception is right inside the house because, this place, it has a ballroom too, compete with an elaborate mural of some Old Testament story on the ceiling and plaster angels around the fireplace.

(“You want to pull on an angel and see if a door opens up?”, Nick whispers to Ty as they pass each other during the traditional bridal party dance. Ty side-eyes him, hard.

"You really want to start talking about Scotland right now?” he hisses back, and Nick shuts his mouth, because come to think of it, _no_ , he does not.)

Now it’s after dinner and he’s lost Kelly to the dance floor and one of Riley’s bridesmaids –not hands-y cousin Andrea, thankfully, but one of Riley’s college friends – so he lets Ty pull him into a conversation with Owen’s work team. Owen’s told them the team is all ex-military, and Nick can believe it, because they all stand the same way, at the same kind of relaxed attention that comes from countless drilling. They regard him and Ty warily, like Owen’s told them one too many stories and now they’re not sure if they should try to assert dominance, or retreat while they can. The judge who officiated the wedding passes by, gives the team a curt not. “Gentlemen.”

“Sir,” they chorus before Mendoza moves on to shake some more hands. Ben, Owen’s second-in-command, nods his head in the judge’s direction. “Former client,” he explains, and juts his jaw out in a _how about that_ fashion.

“Owen mentioned that,” Ty says vaguely in a way that implies he knows that and so much more, which he most definitely does not, and Nick has to hide his laugh in a cough when Ben immediately bristles. “Nothing confidential, of course. Just that that’s why he was officiating.”

“Yeah, well. After the job we did, he owed Owen a few favors,” Ben says with a hint of dark pride that warms the cockles of Nick’s heart before he realizes –

He owes Owen a few favors.

A _judge_ owes Owen favors.

A judge who can, and quite obviously will, _marry people._

“Excuse me,” he says suddenly. “I, uh - I gotta go.”

Ty squints at him, doesn’t even have to say anything to get across the obvious _what the fuck, Irish_.

“I just –” _I have to find Owen and get him to convince the judge to marry me and Kelly_ – “Listen, I’ll be right back.” Owen’s across the room, doing his rounds, and Nick skids the edge of the dance floor to intercept him as he moves towards the bar, latching onto his elbow and tugging him towards the doors. Owen pivots seamlessly, his face completely neutral as he whispers, “what the fuck, Lucky?”

“I need your help,” Nick hisses back. “Judge Mendoza. He owes you favors?”

Owen skids to a halt. “What - I – _Jesus_ , Lucky, in the middle of my _wedding_ , really?”

"Owen –”

"Because yeah, Mendoza owes me one, but his jurisdiction doesn’t quiet extend to _Boston_ –”

“Owen.”

" – I’m not even packing, I don’t have anything –” His eyes go comically wide. “Jesus, are _you_? Are you fucking _packing_ at my wedding?”

“ _Owen_.” A passing guest looks up, and Nick drops his voice, pulls Owen out into the hallway. “Owen. If you would _shut the fuck up_ for a second I’d be able to tell you it’s not that kind of favor.”

“What kind of favor is it?”

There’s a split second where Nick’s brain can’t compute why _Owen_ suddenly sounds like _Ty_ before – “I – for fuck’s sake, Tyler, you fucking _creeper_.”

Ty has the audacity to look offended. Owen snaps his fingers. “ _Irish. Focus.”_

"I want to marry Kelly,” Nick blurts out, and Owen and Ty, their eyebrows shoot up in perfect unison. “Like, now. Well, not _now_. But here. San Diego. Before we all go home.”

“I – oh. _Oh_.” Recognition dawns. “You want Mendoza to rush the license. You want him to marry you guys.”

“Nick,” Ty breathes, and Nick shoves a finger in his face.

“You give me that proud papa look and I will punch you in the nuts.”

“Can I watch?” Digger pipes up, and deftly dodges the reflexive punch Nick throws before he can even think.

"Jesus _Christ_ , are you all just lurking around in the shrubbery?”

“You and Johns disappear, then Grady follows?” Digger shrugs. “I’m a nosy motherfucker, you know this.”

“Shit.” If Digger noticed them gone, Kelly isn’t likely to be far behind. He tugs Digger over, farther out of sight of the ballroom doors. “Where’s Doc?”

“Last I saw, trying to dodge Riley’s grandfather.” Riley’s father and brother, they’d been Army, but her grandfather had been Navy, and he had latched onto Kelly the moment he’s stepped out in his dress blues. Digger grins, a little sadistic. “Why, are we plotting against him?”

“Nick wants to marry Kelly,” Owen announces. “ _Pronto_. As in, wants me to get Mendoza to rush the license so they can fly home hitched.”

"Oh,” Digger says, his voice going soft, and Nick can’t even get off the threat before he finds himself engulfed in a giant hug. Nick struggles against the hold but Digger’s grip is relentless. “ _Rico_.”

“Stop,” Nick pleads, shoving his way free. Digger lets go with an indignant sniffle. “God, you weepy assholes, what the _fuck_.”

“This is beautiful, man!”

“It would be beautiful if you got your shit together – _hey_!” He rubs his arm, glares at Ty. Ty glares back.

“We’re happy for you, asshole, so quit being such a bag of dicks about it, would you?”

Nick makes a choked noise. “I am not -”

“Yes,” Digger interrupts, “you are.”

“I – okay, fine, I am, but this is –” He exhales through his teeth and finally just lets it out. “I’m terrified, okay? Is that what you want to hear? I’m so fucking nervous I’m a little worried I might drown in my own sweat.”

They go quiet, his three friends, and Nick looks away.

"Irish,” Ty says finally. “Doc’s going to say yes. You know that, right?”

“I know,” Nick says, because he does. “I know that.”

"Then what?”

"It’s just - this is the only time I’m going to do this, okay? And Kelly – he deserves _everything_ , you know? The road we took to get here – I just want it to be right.” He rubs a hand across his face. “God, I can't even believe myself."

"What did you think of our ceremony?” Owen asks suddenly. Nick blinks at him, uncomprehending. “It’s a simple question, Lucky. What did you think of my wedding?”

“It was perfect,” Nick says, in all honesty. “It was beautiful, man.”

“The wardrobe malfunction,” Owen says. “It wasn’t a zipper. Riley barfed on her maid of honor’s shoes because she’s got morning sickness so bad she can’t stop throwing up.”

“I –” Nick blinks again. “Uh, I’m sorry?”

“My point,” Owen says, and Digger breathes something that sounds like _thank God_ , “is that we never expected to plan our wedding in three months. Riley never expected to be dealing with morning sickness as she walked down the aisle. But this –” He waves his hands around him. “This is still the happiest day of my life, and I wouldn’t change a goddamn thing, because I got to marry Riley.” He shrugs his shoulders. “You and Kelly, it’s gonna be the same. Whether it’s tomorrow on the beach or at the cabin or the Fiddler or…or, I don’t know, fucking Fenway, man.”

Nick huffs out a laugh, tries to ignore the fact that his cheeks are a little wet. “That would be more for me than him,” he says, his voice thick.

Owen rolls his eyes. “Coors Field, then,” he amends, and Nick snorts.

“I don’t think he knows what that is –”

“ _O’Flaherty_.”

“ – but I get your point.” He pulls Owen in, squeezes him tight. Owen pats his hair. “Thanks, Longjohns.”

"This day, man,” Digger says, sniffling loudly. “Get the fuck over here, y’all.”

 _For the love of Christ,_ Nick almost says from the inside of the hug. “I love you guys,” he says instead.

“We love you too, Irish,” Ty says, and Nick feels his best friend’s hand curl around his neck and squeeze. “Even if you are kind of an asshole.”

“S’why we fit,” Nick answers back as they pull back. He wipes his cheeks on his sleeve and takes a deep breath. “Okay.”

“Point of order,” Digger says, looking like he’s just thought of something important. “Now that your head is finally free of your ass, shouldn’t you be telling Kelly you want to marry him? Instead of, you know, hiding from him?”

Ty makes a soft _huh_ noise. Owen cocks his head like a confused bird. Nick sighs.

“Is this…” Ty’s grin curls wide across his face. “Is this a surprise wedding, Irish?”

Nick rubs his face again. “Bad idea?”

“Fucking awesome idea,” Digger praises, and Nick laughs, a short, relieved sound.

"Thank God, because it was all I had.”

“We got incoming,” Owen hisses suddenly and Nick snaps up, his back straight. “Doc and Garrett at your five o’clock.” He smiles, bland and tense. “Hey, guys. What’s happening?”

“What’s wrong with your face?” Kelly says in response. “What are you all going out here?” He squints at Nick. “And why do you look like you’re about to pass out?”

“Uh –”

“Owen’s great-grandmother tried to feel him up,” Ty supplies, and Nick has to bite down hard on the inside of his mouth to keep in the manic laugh threatening to spill out. “We were, you know, trying to keep him away from her.”

Kelly frowns. “Oh, but Riley’s grandfather stalks me the entire night – can’t even go to the _head_ without him tracking me – before he pins me to the wall and tries to tell me for a fourth time about the time he delivered a message to Admiral Nimitz, and Garrett has to come rescue me?”

“Hey,” Zane says, mildly affronted. “Did I or did I not get you free?”

"Yeah, yeah, tell it to the judge."

"Riley knows how to derail him when he gets stuck,” Owen offers, and it’s enough of a distraction that Ty’s able to signal for Zane’s attention. Nick watches, skeptical, as Ty starts signing away, hands flying wide.

Zane just stares back.

Ty sighs, jabs pointedly at the tattoo on his own ring finger, then at both Kelly and Nick, drawing his fingers together, and Zane’s eyes go wide. _Now_? Zane mouths, and Ty waves both hands no. He gestures to the boys – _we need to talk_ – and mimes Zane pulling Kelly away. Zane gives a short nod.

“Impressive,” Nick mumbles.

“Hey, Doc,” Zane says, interrupting Owen’s ramblings, “I think the path to the bathroom is finally clear. I’ll keep a look-out for you.”

“Thank fuck,” Kelly whines, and Ty flashes a discrete thumbs-up to his husband. “I’ve had to piss for an hour.”

“Classy as always, Doc,” Ty calls after them as Zane ushers Kelly away. Then he turns back, claps his hands together. “All right. We need a plan, people.”


	7. Chapter 7

In the end, it’s way easier than Nick could have expected, as if the universe is trying to make up for every time the situation’s gone completely and utterly FUBAR.

Judge Mendoza looks pinched as Owen explains the situation but whatever he owes Owen – something involving enhanced security tactics; Nick looks discretely away when Owen starts to hint around it – is enough that he agrees to push the paperwork, and to be at there, on the beach behind the mansion, the next morning at 10 a.m. sharp. 

Owen draws over Riley next, explains the plan to her in a quiet hush.  She looks at Nick, wide-eyed, and Nick winces a little, because it’s suddenly occurring to him that he is, essentially, high-jacking her wedding, but she just laughs, blows a loud raspberry.  “Please, that happened the moment you all walked out in those uniforms,” she teases, and Nick blushes, bright red.  “And besides, I’m high on matrimonial endorphins, Nick.  A secret wedding?  I fucking love it.”

“So, that’s it,” Nick says later.  He’s sitting at the edge of Ty and Zane’s bed, speaking in hush tones.  Kelly’s asleep in their bed, exhausted from drinks and dancing and dodging anyone else in a Navy uniform.  “This is happening.”

“Status, Marine?” Ty asks, and Nick laughs, because Ty hasn’t asked him that in years, not since they’re last mission together, but he does what he would have done then: takes a deep breath, does a silent assessment.  The nerves are there, making his heart beat faster than it should, but it’s tempered by a building excitement and the soothing  _rightness_  he feels whenever he thinks about growing old and grey with Kelly at his side.

“All clear,” he says firmly, and Ty and Zane give him identical smiles.  Ty’s mirroring Nick’s cross-legged position on the bed, Zane wrapped up behind him, his long legs forming a protective wall around his husband.   _I can only hope we’re as happy as you two,_  almost trips out, but that’s a little too weird, even for new, romantic Nick, so he just says, “you assholes even smile alike now,” and hopes that they catch his meaning.

“Fuck you too, Irish,” Ty says, his eyes sparkling in a way that makes it clear he does, in fact, get Nick’s meaning, and they both laugh.  Zane just shakes his head.

“Fucking weirdos,” he mutters.  Ty huffs out an offended noise and shoves at his knee, and Zane dips his head, snags Ty’s ear in his teeth.  “Watch it, doll,” he warns.  Ty nips back at his chin, sharp and quick.

“Whatcha gonna do about it, Lone Star?” he counters.  Zane answers with a low growl against Ty’s neck, and Nick watches as Ty’s smile slinks into something more feral. 

“On that note,” Nick says quickly, jumping up from the bed.  He has to dodge Ty’s foot as the other man rolls, taking Zane with him.

“Good talk, Irish,” Ty confirms, his voice muffled behind Zane’s shoulder.  Zane just grunts, his hands already lost under the waistband of Ty’s sweats.  “Now get the fuck out so my husband can –”

“10-4 _,”_  Nick yelps loudly, and shuts the bathroom door securely behind him.  On the other side, Ty moans, loud and long, and Nick can’t resist the urge to smack his fist against it, just once.  “But let’s keep a little respect for your neighbors, huh?” he calls, and jumps when something – a shoe, maybe, or a water bottle – gets thrown against the other side. 

“Fuck off, O’Flaherty,” Zane yells back, and Nick laughs.

In their own room, Kelly’s just pushing up, blurry-eyed.  “What’re y’all yelling for?” he mutters.  “S’late.”

“Sorry, baby,” Nick murmurs, sliding under the covers and letting Kelly pull him tight up against him.  Kelly hums, nuzzles his nose in between Nick’s shoulder blades.  “The two of them are fucking like there’s nobody else around and I was giving them shit.”

The blankets fall away as Kelly sits straight up.  “Oh yeah?” he says, suddenly wide awake, and Nick snorts, mumbles  _pervert_ under his breath.  Kelly just grins, unapologetic, as he cranes his neck to listen.  There’s a soft cry, something close to Zane’s name, and Kelly whistles low.  “Damn, Garrett, get that shit.”

“Oh, he’s getting that shit, trust me,” Nick says, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips.  He feels silly, loose – really, the best kind of ridiculous – because he’s here, in the beautiful place with his best friends, and he’s going to marry the man he loves more than anything else in the world in the morning.  He wraps an arm around Kelly’s neck and pulls him down, kisses him, wet and messy.  Kelly bites at his lip, slides a hand down to palm at Nick’s dick.

“You gonna get this shit?” Kelly growls into his mouth, and Nick grins, grabs at the fabric of Kelly’s shorts so he can haul him over his hip.  Kelly lands on his back with a soft  _whoof_  of air and Nick crawls over him, his legs between Kelly’s.  He pulls his knees up, forces Kelly’s wide open, and Kelly grunts, wraps his foot around so his heel rests in the base of Nick’s spine. 

“Why, you want to see if we can drown ‘em out?” he rumbles against Kelly’s ear.   Kelly lets out a breathy laugh, shakes his head against the pillow.

“Nah, I already know we can," Kelly says, his lips twisted in a smirk.  Then the smirk relaxes away into something quieter, almost shy.  “I just really want you to fuck me,” he admits, low and soft, and strokes his thumb against Nick's lip, sliding it along the slick flesh.  He pushes up on his elbows, so close his lips brush Nick's as he speaks.  "Do you want to fuck me, baby?" he whispers, and Nick feels his entire body flush hot.

 "Yes," he hisses, because he doesn't think there'e anything he's ever wanted more in his life.  "Yes, Kelly, I do."  So he does.


	8. Chapter 8

Nick sleeps remarkably well that night, considering. The morning comes easy too, nothing like the anxious dawning he'd half expected. Instead, there’s a nervous buzzing under his skin, the anticipation low and warm in his belly, making him want to squirm. He tries to breathe deep, but fails, enough that Kelly stirs behind him.

"Morning," Kelly mutters, his voice muffled against the blankets, and when Nick twists around to see him, he finds all that's visible is a crest of dirty blond hair. Nick runs his fingers through it, exacerbating the already spectacular bedhead Kelly's sporting. Kelly hums, a contented sound.

"Morning," Nick whispers, keeps the _happy wedding day_ quietly to himself. He presses a kiss to Kelly's temple. "You stay in bed. I'm gonna go help with breakfast."

"'Kay," Kelly agrees, and he's already halfway back to sleep as Nick slips out and down the stairs to the small servant’s kitchen they’ve co-opted as their own, where Ty's putting on the kettle and Digger's searching the cabinets for cereal. Owen’s somewhere in the depths of the mansion, he imagines, enjoying his morning after with his new wife in a master bed that’s practically as wide as Nick’s entire cabin.

"Rico," Digger greets Nick cheerfully. 

“Genie still sleeping?”

Digger nods. “She doesn’t always share my appreciation for the early hours,” he says, and Nick chuckles. Digger always was a morning person, even on mission, even in the middle of the desert. "But I was surprised I didn't find you down here when I woke up."

"Why?"

"Because cooking is one of your go-tos when you're nervous," Ty states, as if it should be obvious. "Or anxious, or scared."

"And why would I be any of those things?" Nick shoos Digger into the nearest seat and starts pulling out the necessary ingredients for pancakes. Ty blinks at him, then shoots Digger a slightly concerned look.

"Because you're getting married this morning?" he says slowly, as if Nick might have forgotten, or worse, finally suffered that psychotic break they'd all been waiting on for a good ten years.

"And?"

"And...the thought of marriage has heretofore so terrified you that you faked amnesia to get out of a proposal?"

Nick stops, turns to face Ty full-on, and Diggers shifts back a little, out of the line of any potential cross-fire. Nick holds Ty's gaze, hard, for a few long seconds, then says, "did you seriously just use the word _heretofore_ on me?"

Ty and Digger gape. Nick laughs.

"Oh, he's done snapped," Digger whispers, which just makes Nick laugh harder.

"Guys." He shakes his head, still smiling, and dumps the contents of his measuring cup into the bowl, sending a little poof of flour into the air. "I get it. Given everything that’s happened, I get it. But I'm not anxious. I'm not scared. Nervous, a little, but that’s got to be normal, I figure.” Whatever happened at Owen’s wedding, whatever switch it flipped, it flipped good and firm. He’s crossed his emotional Rubicon, and he’s not looking back.

"Normal. Sure,” Ty says neutrally. It’s his _I’m not looking to embarrass anyone, but I know that’s bullshit_ voice, the one he would use on the young Marines protesting to a superior officer that they weren’t scared out of their minds. Nick side-eyes him. Ty side-eyes back.

“I don’t know,” Digger interrupts quietly, and when Nick turns, the other man is regarding him with an unusually serious look on his face. “I think I believe him. Look at him. He looks…relaxed.” A small smirk twists at his lips. “First time in years he doesn’t look like he’s contemplating murder.” 

Nick barks out a laugh, holds out his fist for a bump, and Digger obliges. Ty frowns, then grabs Nick’s face, holds him still as he peers close. Nick resists the urge to push him away and just lets him stare.

“Hmm,” Ty says finally. For a split second, his hazel eyes go soft, misty, but then he gives Nick’s cheek a sharp pat and smiles. “You may be right. A little maiming maybe, but no murder.” 

“Fuck you, too,” Nick retorts, and whips a hand up, cackling when he gets in a sound smack to Ty’s cheek before Ty can duck away. “Friends like you, you wonder why I look the way I do.”

“Bag of _dicks_ ,” Ty whines, but he’s fighting a grin. “Zane, tell him to be nice to me.”

Nick turns to see Zane standing at the backdoor, his face is slightly pink from the sun, his feet sandy from the beach. There’s a towel and book under his arm. “I’m not sure what makes you think it would possibly make any difference,” he says, and Digger snickers. 

“Always been assholes, always gonna be assholes,” he says sagely. 

“S’why we’re friends,” Nick agrees. Ty frowns, like he could possibly be offended by the truth, but then Zane kisses him, and Nick can only shake his head and smile as Ty melts under his husband’s touch. “You didn’t get enough last night?” he teases. Zane pulls away, makes an incredulous sound.

“Pot, kettle,” he says pointedly, and scoffs when Nick feigns innocence. “Don’t even. You forgot to close your bathroom door all the way, you know.”

“Oh,” Nick squeaks, because no, he didn’t know. “Uh, sorry ‘bout that?” 

“Uh-huh,” Zane says flatly.

“So gross,” Ty mutters.

“If you’re not going to let me get to the cereal,” Digger says loudly, and eyes Nick’s mixing bowl. Nick grunts out an apology and resumes whisking.

"Trying to ease some nerves?” Zane asks, and clasps a large hand on Nick’s shoulder. 

“No nerves,” Nick responds as he cracks an egg, and tucks the fact that Zane cares enough to know that about him in his _reasons Garrett is one of us now_ mental folder. “Just wanted pancakes.”

“Sure,” Zane says, his voice a mirror of Ty’s, and Nick snorts.

“I’m serious, man,” he protests, and he sees Ty and Digger shrug at Zane’s questioning glance. “I'm just..." He pauses, looks out the window above the sink to the quiet beach. "I'm just happy."

Zane lowers his eyes, gazes at Nick for a long moment – it’s disconcerting, having one of his friends look _down_ to see him, and Nick twitches a little – before he scrunches up his nose, nods his head. “Okay,” he says, and flicks on the coffee maker. 

“Okay,” Nick echoes. From the corner of his eye he sees Ty’s face go soft, contented, as he watches his husband and his best friend together. “Beaumont,” Nick warns loudly, and Ty rolls his eyes. 

“Oh, for the love of Pete.” Kelly steps down off the stairs, his hair still a mess, the hem of Nick’s Red Sox sleep pants dragging a little, so fucking _adorable_ Nick has to turn away before it makes him fall apart. There’s a small flash of panic before he realizes they haven’t actually said the word wedding for a good ten minutes, and there’s no way Kelly couldn’t stayed still that long. “It’s not even 8:30 and we’re already Beaumont-ing?”

“Do you have an internal pancake radar?” Ty asks in return, and Kelly laughs his morning laugh, deep and throaty. 

“One of my many talents,” he confirms. He slides up behind Nick, presses his front to Nick’s back, his arms slipping under Nick’s until his hands rest on Nick’s shoulders. His lips press warm and dry to the nape of Nick’s neck and Nick can’t help but close his eyes, let his head roll forward and his body press back infinitesimally more until all he feels is Kelly.

“And he gives me shit,” he hears Ty mumble, and he has to laugh, because, _touché, Beaumont. Touché._

“There’s M&Ms in that bag over there,” he murmurs into Kelly’s hair. Kelly’s response is a wet kiss to his cheek and Nick’s favorite smile, the one that he lives for, the one that makes him believe there’s some good left in the world. He squeezes Nick’s shoulders once more then moves away.

"So what’s on the schedule for today?” he asks as he digs into the bag. 

_We’re getting married:_ the words are right at the tip of his tongue, and Nick barely clamps his mouth shut in time before they tumble out. “Uh,” he tries, but his brain, it’s blanking out on anything but the truth.

“I think they’ve got some picnic thing set up,” Digger jumps in for the save, and Nick breathes out. “Around 10 or so.”

“Yeah, right out back,” Ty follows up smoothly. “Just, you know. Casual.”

“I don’t remember hearing about that,” Kelly says with a squint. 

“Me neither,” Zane says, and Nick fumbles, almost dumps the entire bowl of batter all over the counter, but then Zane adds, “I guess Owen said something while we were dodging Grandpa Williams?”

“Yeah,” Nick says, makes a note to compliment Zane later on his CIA-approved story-building technique. “He told us then. Meant to tell you last night.”

“But apparently you got busy with other things,” Zane says, and Kelly chokes a little on the tea he’s stolen from Nick. 

“Uh, sorry?” he manages.

“No, you’re not,” Ty says sourly, and Kelly grins.

“No, I’m not,” he agrees. He smacks Nick on the ass. “Look at this fine-ass man. How could I be?”

“ _Gross_ ,” Ty hollers, just as Nick blurts out, “you’re a fucking _nut_ ,” but Kelly just laughs.

“Then you’re gonna have a fucking nut for a husband,” he retorts, and Nick’s stomach rolls over itself, “so _there_.”

"I guess I am,” he says, feels the warmth down to his bones. When he steals a glance over to Ty and Digger, they’re both grinning, proud and happy. “I guess I am.”

xxxxxxxxxxx

Owen shows up as breakfast is ending to steal a pancake, manages an award-worthy save when Kelly teases him for eating before their brunch. 

“Eh, my mother-in-law chose the menu, so I’ll eat now,” he lies smoothly after just a moment’s hesitation, and Nick releases the breath he’d been holding.

They splinter off to shower and dress before reconvening in the main floor sunroom. Zane takes up a discrete lookout at the window seat overlooking the drive, a dusty book cradled on his lap. Just around 9:45, his eyes flick over to Nick’s, and he gives a barely perceptible nod.

“I think I aggravated my knee being on the sand so much,” Owen says, his voice carrying over the sound of tires on gravel. He rolls the joint in question, the scar from his ACL surgery visible. “Doc, can you check it out?”

Kelly squints at him from the game of dominoes he’s playing with Genie and Digger. “You wouldn’t let me help you do physiotherapy on it when it was torn, and you want me to check it now?”

“I’ve matured since then,” Owen deadpans. “We gonna do this or what?”

Kelly grumbles but follows Owen out of the room towards the master suite, just as there’s a soft knock at the door. Riley throws it open with a grin, Nick hovering close behind her. 

“Good morning, Judge Mendoza,” she greets him. Mendoza looks like he’s not all that sure about that yet, but nods politely. 

“Riley,” he says, then casts his gaze towards Nick. “Mr. O”Flaherty.”

“Good morning, sir,” Nick says, shaking his hand. “And please, it’s Nick. Come in.”

Riley steps out of the way so Mendoza can come in, and he glances to his right, where the others stand. “You must be the rest of the unit,” he says by way of greeting. 

Ty and Digger snap to attention so subtly that Nick thinks they must not even know they’re doing it. “Yes, sir,” they chorus together. And then some,” Ty adds, giving a little head nod towards Zane and Genie.

“I’ve seen Owen at work,” Mendoza says, and there’s a hint of admiration in his voice. “I can only imagine what you were like all together.” 

Nick feels an all-too-familiar twinge in his chest, pride mixed with sadness, and it’s clear that Ty and Digger feel it too, because their faces go solemn for a fleeting moment. “Yes, sir,” Ty says finally, and Mendoza seems to take the cue, because he nods and turns to Nick, holds up the folder in his hand. 

“We’ll complete all the necessary paperwork after the ceremony,” he says. “Doesn’t make sense to have you fill it out now only to have to go through everything again later with Mr. Abbott.”

“ _Mr. Abbott_ ,” Ty mutters, amused, because _Mr. Abbott_ implies a level of sustained adult-like behavior Kelly isn’t exactly known for, at least not around them. Nick wants to hiss out a _be quiet,_ but he’s busy trying not to smile. 

"Whatever you say is best, sir,” he says instead. “We just – we really appreciate this.”

“Yes. Well. Owen makes a…persuasive argument,” Mendoza says, his voice carefully neutral. Riley rolls her eyes behind his back.

“By which he means blackmail,” she whispers as Mendoza moves away, and Nick laughs, low under his breath.

“You don’t mind that your brand-new husband has no trouble with that?” he teases.

“Are you kidding me?” Riley scoffs. “I plan to make use of it whenever I can.” 

Nick laughs again, slings his arm around Riley’s shoulders. “Have we told you lately how fucking lucky Owen is to have found you?” he says, and Riley smiles bright.

“I don’t mind hearing it again,” she retorts cheerfully, and Nick stops her with a hand on her arm, turns her to face him. The others have followed Mendoza outside, leaving Riley and Nick alone.

“I’m serious,” he says, and Riley blinks, surprised. “I know – _we_ know we’re a lot. Even in the best of circumstances, we’re a lot. And it’s usually not the best of circumstances.” He smiles, tries to keep the sadness out of it. “I don’t know if you know this, but Kelly was married before and his wife – she was nice enough but she just could not understand…” He waves a hand around himself, searching for the word. “She couldn’t understand _us_. She didn’t _try._  And it was a big part of why their marriage ended with her burning Kelly’s shit on the front lawn. Not that I think you’d ever do that,” he hastens to add, because Riley’s starting to get an _are you serious?_ look on her otherwise calm face. He takes a deep breath, tries to regroup. “What I’m trying to say is – people like Zane, and you, people that understand you’re basically marrying an entire group and are okay with it – you’re rare. And we appreciate you for it. We love you for it.”

Riley’s mouth forms into a surprised _o_ for a just a moment before she smiles, her eyes teary. “Nick,” she murmurs, and pulls him into a tight hug. Nick bends down to meet her. “I love you guys too,” she says. “I love you because Owen loves you. Because you helped make him the man he is.” 

Nick swallows hard against the tightness in his chest at the thought of a young Owen, already so focused, so serious. “To be fair, Owen was always a pretty upstanding citizen,” he admits against her shoulder. “We mostly just corrupted him.”

Riley laughs as she pulls back. “Who says that wasn’t what I was talking about?” she retorts, and Nick grins. Riley mirrors it back, slightly more mischievous. “So since you brought it up, you can tell me the truth now,” she says, and Nick cocks his head, confused. “You’re marrying Kelly because it’s easier than trying to indoctrinate someone new, am I right?”

Nick snorts. “Well, Kelly is pretty easy,” he admits with a sly grin, and Riley barks out a loud laugh.

“I’ll bet he is,” she says, giving him a salacious eye brow wiggle. She slides an arm through his, her palm on his forearm. “Well, come on now. Let’s get you married, huh?”


	9. Chapter 9

Nick and Riley find the group gathered on the small deck just outside their kitchen.  They all watch, but stay quiet, as Riley comes over but Nick doesn’t, and heads for the water instead.  When he reaches the water’s edge, he stops, closes his eyes, and breathes deep.  The smell of the saltwater feels like a balm, cool and soothing and familiar.

 _I’m getting married_. 

The thought floats through his brain, a soft wave, and Nick relaxes into it. 

_I’m getting married._

“Jesus Christ,” Nick murmurs to himself, a smile forcing its way past his defenses.  “I’m getting married.”

“You’re getting married,” Ty agrees, and Nick laughs, shakes his head.

“Seriously, they teach you ninja classes at the CIA or some shit?”

“I would maintain I have always been naturally light on my feet,” Ty protests, and Nick snorts, because they both know that’s a damned lie.  Ty slings an arm over Nick’s shoulders.  “You ready for this, Lucky?”

Nick takes a long look at the water, calm and still and incredibly blue.  “Yeah,” he says.  There’s a soft flutter in his belly, the excitement making itself known.  “I am.”

Ty gives a curt nod.  Then he signs deeply, turns his face towards Nick’s, his eyes wide and soaked with innocence, and it’s so sudden and disturbing Nick doesn’t even try to hide it when he shrinks back.  “Tyler, what in the hell are you doing?”

“I know this is all very last minute,” Ty says, his voice soft, and damned if he doesn’t actually _bat his eyelashes_ at Nick.  “And not, you know, I understand that you may not be embracing the _traditional_ roles for the ceremony, but…”

“Oh, you’ve got to be shitting me,” Nick huffs out, it suddenly dawning clear, and shoves a hand in Ty’s stupid face.  “Cut the cutesy shit, for fuck’s sake.  You know damn well you’re my best man.”

He feels Ty’s grin under his hand before Ty bats it away and puffs his chest out, a proud peacock.  “Damn straight I am,” he proclaims, and Nick would roll his eyes if he wasn’t smiling so wide.

“Yeah, yeah,” he gripes, because he can.  “Let’s get this show on the road, huh?”

“Roger that, good buddy.”  Ty pulls out his cell phone and fires off a text to Owen that the coast is clear.  Then he leads Nick over to the others, all standing on the widest part of the little beach.

“Last chance,” Digger advises, lets out an  _oof_  when Genie elbows him in the ribs.  “Jeez, I’m just letting him know his options!”   

“Thanks,” Nick says dryly, “but I’m good.”

There’s voices carrying from the house now, getting louder as they get closer.  Owen’s, then Kelly’s.

“ – I’m just saying, maybe you should change your shorts.  I mean,  _Jesus,_ Doc, how long have you had them?”

“What do you care about my shorts, man?”  The door swings open and Kelly steps out, but his head is down, looking at the clothing in question.  “I was told this was a casual thing –”

“Kelly.”

He looks up at Nick’s voice and Nick watches the shock take hold as Kelly takes in the scene, their friends and the judge and the quiet water.  Then he turns back to Nick, his expression unreadable as Nick takes a deep breath and approaches him.  “Nick?”

“Kels.”  He grabs Kelly’s hand, tugs him down the steps.  Kelly stumbles but comes, and they both exhale softly when they meet, chest to chest.  “I’m tired of worrying,” Nick says quietly.  “I’m tired of thinking about the worst that could happen instead of the best.  I just want to do what’s going to make us happy.  And I think – I think we’ve got the boys here and the judge that married Owen owes him a favor, so I thought…let’s get married, right now.”  He gives Kelly a lop-sided smile.  “What’d you say, babe?”

“ _Nick_.”  It comes out soft, like a prayer.  Then Kelly grins, a full Abbott smile, so bright and pure it kicks against Nick’s chest.  Kelly pulls him into a crushing kiss.  “Fuck, yes, Nick,” he whispers against his lips.  “Yes.  Of course.  Let’s do it.”

“Okay,” Nick whispers back, and kisses him again.  “Okay.  Let’s get married.”

Kelly nods, but not before a look of realization flashes across his face, and then he’s backing away, shoving past Owen and making for the house.  “I just – hold on!”

“Kels?”

“Just give me one minute!” Kelly hollers over his shoulder.  “Just – one minute!”

“ _Kelly!_ ” Nick looks around, a little helplessly.  “What the hell?”

“Damn, Irish, what the hell did you say to him?” Ty calls as Kelly disappears inside.  “Last time Doc moved that fast, someone was shooting at him!”

There’s a flash of movement as Kelly moves past the window, obviously in the bedroom he and Nick are sharing.  The window’s open enough to hear him slamming their luggage around.  “Dude, I was kidding about the shorts!” Owen hollers.  “I mean, I wasn’t, but whatever!  It’s fine!”

“Fuck off, Johns!” Kelly hollers back.  “I like these shorts –  _a ha_!”  The shadow moves past the window again and there’s a steady drum of footsteps as Kelly flies down the staircase and bursts out the door.  He chucks something at Owen, who catches it reflexively.

It’s a ring box.

Nick doesn't even have time to process this, the fact that Kelly has apparently been carrying around a  _wedding_ ring,  _Nick’s_  wedding ring, because Kelly is pulling off his own ring and handing it to Ty, who tucks it into his pocket.  “Okay,” Kelly says, breathless.  “ _Now_ we can do this.”

"Uh," Nick says unintelligently, "okay."

"How are you, sir," Kelly says, and sticks a hand out.  Mendoza shakes.

"Just fine, son.  You ready to get married?"

"I am," Kelly says, "although this, right here and now, that’s a surprise.  I mean, a happy one.  But this definitely wasn't what I expected when I woke up this morning, you know?"

"Kels," Nick says.

"But I'm ready.  Definitely ready.  And we really appreciate this.  You must really owe Owen one, huh?  He’s a pretty handy dude to have around.  This one time –"

"Kelly," Nick interrupts louder, as Mendoza arches an eyebrow.  "You're babbling."

"Well, you know I babble when I'm nervous," Kelly cries back.  "And yet you're standing there, letting me run my mouth and get myself in trouble -  _mmmph_!" 

When Nick pulls back from the kiss, Kelly huffs out a breath, then nods.  “Thanks,” he says, and Nick laughs.

“Well, shit.  If we had known that’s how you shut up Doc…”  Digger trails off as Nick slowly turns and glares.  “I mean, I’m just saying, you know?  Would’ve been helpful.”

Mendoza clears his throat.  “Not to rude, gentlemen…”

“Sorry, sir,” they chorus.

“Okay.”  Kelly tugs Nick over until they’re positioned properly, facing each other in front of the judge.  “Okay.”

“Okay,” Nick echoes.  “No, wait.”  He leans in, kisses Kelly long and sweet, and Kelly presses back, squeezes his fingers tight.  When he pulls away, Kelly’s cheeks are flushed a delicious pink.  “Okay.  Now we’re ready.”

“You sure?” Mendoza says dryly.  Nick just laughs and nods.  “All right then.  I’d like to welcome you all here today to celebrate the marriage of Nick and Kelly.”  He pauses, leans in close.  “I’m assuming you’re not interested in a long sermon?”

“No, sir,” Kelly says.  “Let’s just take Owen and Riley’s and say, you know, ditto.”

“Hey!”  Owen complains.  Riley shushes him, loudly.

“In that case, I am required to ask by the state of California if you are entering into this union of your own free will and volition.”

“We are,” they chorus.

“If there is anyone here who knows of any good reason to object to this union,” the judge states, “speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“Any of you assholes opens your mouth –”

“Mr. O’Flaherty,” Mendoza interrupts tightly, “you cannot  _threaten_  your guests.”

“Yeah,  _Mr. O’Flaherty_ ,” Digger says, all fake indigence, and the others snicker. 

“Sorry, sir,” Nick says, chastised, but Kelly squeezes his hand.

“I thought it was kind of hot,” he whispers.  Mendoza sighs but Kelly just shrugs.  “Sorry, sir.”

“Given the last-minute nature of this ceremony, I’m assuming you have not prepared individualized vows and would prefer to use the traditional ones?”

Nick blinks, then turns to Kelly, because in all the rushing, he didn’t think about _vows_.  “I’ll do whatever you want,” he says quietly.

Kelly hesitates for just a moment before he gives Nick a pleading look, all wide eyes.  “Just because we don’t have anything written down doesn’t mean we don’t have anything to say, right?”

He sounds so earnest, Nick can’t help but agree.  “Right,” he says, then quickly adds, “but you’re going first.”

Kelly laughs.  “Fair,” he concedes.  “Okay.”  He takes a deep breath, lets it slow, and Nick can practically hear the gears turning in Kelly’s head.  “Okay.  So, the last time I stood at an altar like this –”

The word fly out before Nick can censor himself.  “We’re seriously going to talk about your first wedding right now?”

“You remember what you just said about nervous rambling, right, Doc?” Ty supplies helpfully.  Kelly frowns.

“Would you let me finish my point here?”

“By all means,” Owen says dryly, “continue digging that hole.”

Kelly pulls one hand loose so he can flip him the bird.

“Classy,” Zane comments.

“Would you all  _shut up_?”

“Gentlemen,” Mendoza says, “ _please_ focus.”

Yes, sir.  Sorry, sir,” Kelly says quickly.  “So.  As I was saying.  The  _last time_  I stood at an altar like this –”

“You’re gonna hit China soon,” Ty mutters, but Kelly ignores him, trains his gaze on Nick instead.  Nick gazes back in what he hopes is a  _I have serious concerns, but I’m willing to see where this goes_  look.

“ – you were standing behind me, as my best man,” he finally finishes.  “And there was something about it that felt so  _wrong_ , which didn’t make sense, because who else would have been my best man but my best friend, right?  And that feeling – it kind of always stuck with me, but it was only until after New Orleans that I figured it out.  Figured out that it should have been you standing in  _front_ of me, not behind me.”

Nick feels his cheeks flush.  “Kels,” he says quietly.

“I don’t know why it took me so long,” Kelly breathes, and there’s a genuine confusion in his voice.  “Because from the beginning, Nick, you and me, we’ve always felt different.”  He pauses, and a mischievous glint sparks in his eye.  “Okay.  Maybe not the  _very_  beginning.”

“Wait for it,” Digger whispers.  Genie just squints at him.

“You may not remember the first time we slept side by side –”

Nick throws his hands up.  “Oh, for the love of – it was the middle of a training exercise!”

“There is it,” Digger says louder.

“We  _huddled for warmth_ , Nick!”

“We’d met like,  _once_ , in the middle of class.  You were covered in  _camo paint_!”  Nick hollers.  “Along with thirty other guys!”

“This feels strangely kinky for a wedding,” Zane says, and Ty laughs, “even for these two.”

“No,” Ty counters.  He wraps an arm around his husband’s waist.  “It’s kind of perfect, I think.”

Nick growls, but Kelly’s laughing, and when he cups Nick’s cheek in his hand, Nick’s scowl falls away.  “You know why I bring this up now,” he says, and Nick huffs.

“Because you like fucking with me?”

“No.”  Kelly pauses.  “Well, yes.  But I bring this up  _now_ because even in a cold ditch and the pouring rain, before I even really knew you, I knew to go to you.  I knew it  _instinctually_  before I knew it rationally.  I knew you would keep me safe and warm and whole.”  The hand on his cheek wraps securely around the nape of his neck.  “You’re my home, Irish,” he whispers.  He presses a soft, chaste kiss to Nick’s lips and Nick grabs at his waist, pulls Kelly tight against him.  “I told you that ten years ago, when the team was breaking up, and I’m telling you now.  You have always been my home.  You always will be.”

There’s nothing Nick can really say, not without spilling the tears threatening in the corners of his eyes, so he just holds Kelly close, buries his face in Kelly’s neck.   Kelly holds him there, the hand on his neck massaging gently, until Nick feels like he can safely speak again.  He squeezes Kelly’s hips, lifts his head, and Kelly’s grip eases but doesn’t let go.  “Okay, no fair, what with the weepy shit,” he jokes weakly, and Kelly laughs. 

“Sucker,” he teases under his breath, which makes Nick snort, dirty minded as he is.  Kelly smacks his free hand against Nick’s chest.  “That’s not – get your mind out of the _gutter_ , Irish, this is our wedding.”

“ _Ha_ ,” Ty barks, the same time Owen mutters, “good luck with that, and Nick says, “sorry,” not sorry at all.  Digger just shakes his head.  Kelly sighs, gives Mendoza a _can you believe this crew_ look that goes nowhere, so he turns it to Zane, who just rolls his eyes.

“I believe it’s your turn, Mr. O’Flaherty,” Mendoza says instead, and Nick’s stomach drops a little.  Kelly must catch it, the fear that flits across his face before he can blink it away, because the hands at his chest and neck drop and take his own hands up instead.  Nick watches their hands for a few moments, watches Kelly’s thumb rub against the scar that runs almost all the way around one hand.  Then he takes a deep breath and meets Kelly’s eyes.   

“So.”  He breathes slow again.  “Okay, so,  _no_ , I don’t remember our first meeting, what with the camo paint and the 30 other grunts –”

“And the huddling together for warmth, Nick,” Kelly interjects, merciless in a way that kind of makes Nick love him more.  “Don’t forget the huddling together for warmth.”

“And the fucking  _huddling together for warmth_ , yes, I know, _Jesus_.  But – I do remember that.”  He nods down to their clasped hands.  “You stitching my hand back together.”  His lips quirks up.  “And you stitching up my hip, and my thigh, and my calf, and my _other_ calf, and my head, and the one spot _right_ behind my ear.”

“That one was a bitch,” Kelly muses.

“I remember you taking care of me – us, any of us – after every injury,” Nick continues, almost as if he hadn’t heard him.  “Checking us out of medical early so we didn’t go crazy, even as the doctors warned you would be responsible it something happened.  I remember you getting up at 4 a.m. for months to work Owen through his knee injury because medical had given up on him, was about to pull him from the unit on a medical discharge.  And then you would do your normal 16-hour days, only to come home and treat us for whatever scraps we’d gotten ourselves into that day.”

“Nick,” Kelly says, but Nick just shakes his head.

“I remember you throwing an unconscious Ty over your shoulder and carrying him up 5 flights of a crumbling building to the rescue helo,” he says, and Kelly purses his lips tight.  “And I remember you holding onto Eli’s leg for what – 5 hours? 6? – so he wouldn’t bleed out as we fought our way back to base.  And I remember you throwing yourself over Digger so you would take the force of a grenade blast because he’s been shot and couldn’t protect himself.  And I remember –”  His voice catches, because he doesn’t know if he can say it, _should_ say it, but then the words are forcing themselves out all on their own.  “I remember the back of the transport, after they picked us up out of the desert,” he says, all in a rush, and Kelly makes a soft, shocked noise.  “I remember thinking – thinking how fucked up it was that they had found us just in time for us to die.”  His hands hurt from how hard Kelly’s squeezing them, and he’s pretty sure he can hear Ty breathing hard, distressed, but he can’t look away from Kelly’s teary eyes.  “But then – then you were there,” he breathes, and he can still feel the wonder that flooded through him at the sight of Kelly above him, the sun lighting him like an angel.  “You were there –”  His voice gives out and he sobs out a heavy breath, has to close his eyes against the memory.

When the silence breaks, it’s Ty that speaks, his voice quiet but sure.  “You were yelling,” he says, and Nick opens his eyes to see him pull Zane closer to his side.  “ _Screaming_ at them to get the fuck out of your way because you were our medic and you needed to help us.”  He gives Kelly a watery smile, and Kelly stares back.  “We were so dehydrated, they couldn’t get the IVs started and you shoved the guy on his ass and yelled, ‘if you can’t do your job –”

“Move your fucking ass so I can do mine’,” Nick finishes, and huffs out a wet laugh.  “And then you did.  Classic battlefield Doc.”

“Classic,” Ty agrees, and Owen and Digger nod.

“I didn’t –” Kelly’s eyes are still wide, stunned.  “I didn’t know,” he whispers.  “Didn’t know either of you remembered anything from that.”

Nick nods, because how could he, when even all these years later Nick and Ty refuse to talk about it.  He pulls Kelly closer, presses his forehead to Kelly’s, his hands wrapped tight in Nick’s.  “I remember thinking – thinking for the first time since we found ourselves in that godforsaken desert – that we were going to make it.  That it was all going to be okay because you were there, and you would take care of us.”  His voice is a hoarse whisper, and he doesn’t fight it when Kelly yanks his hands free to wrap his arms around Nick’s neck, his tears burning warm through the cotton of Nick’s t-shirt.  “And you did.  You still are, Kelly.  You’re still taking care of us.  Of _me_.  You’re still making everything okay.”

“ _Nick_ ,” Kelly sobs against his chest.  Nick buries his face into Kelly’s short hair and tries desperately to breath.  “ _Nick_.”

“I love you so much,” he forces out through the tears.  “I love you so fucking much and _you’re right_ , Kelly, we always known what we were to each other, except in the most obvious way.”  He presses his lips to Kelly’s ear, and Kelly shudders around him.  “Thank God, Kelly, thank God you asked me to kiss you,” he whispers.  “Thank God you had the courage to take the first step, even if you didn’t really know why you were doing it.”

Kelly nods, his hair sticking to Nick’s wet cheeks as he moves.  “Thank God,” he echoes.  He presses them together, temple to temple.  “I love you, Nick O’Flaherty.”

“I love you, you crazy bastard,” Nick tells him, and feels Kelly’s smile against his cheek. 

“Jesus,” Kelly whines, tugs on Nick’s shirt a little to get Nick to look at him.  When he does, he sees Kelly’s got that mischievous glint in his eye.  “And you give me grief for the weepy shit,” he whines, and Nick can’t help it, he laughs.

“I didn’t mean to dig that deep,” he admits dolefully, and the admission is enough to bring the air back, give them all space to breathe.  “Which, still your fault.  We could have just promised to honor and obey and be done with it.”

Kelly’s shoulders shake as he laughs.  “What would be the fun in that,” he teases.

“We never have been fans of the easy route,” Nick agrees, and kisses him.

“Ain’t that the fucking truth,” Digger calls, and steals his handkerchief back from Genie so he can mop his eyes.  “You two, _Jesus_.”

“Should have known you’d be damned near impossible together,” Owen concurs, gives a little laugh and a shake of his head as Riley sobs into his shirt.  “Oh, for Christ’s sake, look what you did.”

“You upset the pregnant lady,” Riley wails, and scoffs when the whole group goes still.  “Oh, please.  Like I didn’t know Owen was going to open his fat mouth as soon as he saw you.”

Nick just blinks, a little dazed.  “I – uh, okay?”

“Do we say congratulations now?” Zane asks in a loud whisper and Ty turns and glares, although it’s undone by the loud sniffle that follows. 

Nick blinks again, turns to Kelly, who’s gazing back at him with such love, Nick doesn’t even know what to do.  Kelly gives a little shrug of his shoulders.  “I’ve got nothing,” he admits, unperturbed.  He turns to Mendoza, who looks no less stunned at the hysterics around him.  “Sir, a little help?”

It takes a minute, but Mendoza manages to shake off the speechlessness.  “It might be best to take a break,” he finally offers, but Nick and Kelly both shake their heads _no._

“We’re doing this now,” Kelly says firmly.  “We’re _finishing_ this now.”  He jerks his chin towards the others.  “Get your shit together, Marines.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” the Sidewinder boys chorus.  Genie’s mopping Riley’s face now, dabbing gently as if there’s a chance she can still save her eye make-up.  Riley sniffles her thanks.

“I think we’re ready,” Genie says softly.  She takes Digger’s hand again, and Nick nods.

“Okay,” he whispers, then turns to Mendoza.  “Okay.  Let’s do this.”

“In that case, it’s time for the exchanging of the rings,” Mendoza says, and Ty and Owen each take a step forward.  “Do you, Nicholas Ryan O’Flaherty –”

Nick tenses, sucks in a hard breath. Mendoza freezes, his face all but screaming, _are you serious right now._

“I’m fine,” Nick grits out.  He’s prepared to let it go, so they can just  _get through this,_  but Kelly’s already gone, folded over in laughter, so he whips around instead and thumps Ty, hard, on the arm.

“You  _asshole,_ ” he hollers, but Ty’s cackling so hard he probably doesn’t even hear.  Nick thumps him again.

“This is the most fucked-up wedding ever,” Digger wheezes through his laughter as Genie stares on.  “Oh God, it’s so good.”

“What’s going on now?” she cries, her gentle calm finally cracking, and Digger laughs harder.

“My middle name,” Nick spits out, “is  _Reilly_  –”

“Whoo!” Riley whoops, her tears firmly forgotten.  “Riley power!”

“ – Except this  _asshole –”,_  another thump, this time to the side, and Ty chokes out a yelp around the laughter, “has been insisting for 15 years that it’s  _Ryan_.  Like I don’t know my own middle name!”

“I didn’t even mean to do it!” Ty manages to get out. He’s hanging onto Zane for support, although Zane’s staring down at him like he’s thinking about just shaking him loose and leaving him to take his punishment.  “I just wrote it out of habit!”

“I really don’t know if that makes it better or worse!” Digger howls.

“Oh God, Irish,” Kelly gasps.  He’s bent over, hands on his knees, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.  “What is even happening right now.”

“There’s a joke somewhere about saving that pose for the wedding night,” Riley hollers from the audience, and Owen whips around, stares at her with this stricken look, like he doesn’t know whether to be horrified or terribly proud, “but I won’t make it, because I am a  _lady,_ and a mother-to-be.”

“Oh for the love of Christ,” Nick moans, but he’s laughing now too.  Riley’s high-fiving Digger and Ty, and Genie’s hiding behind her hands, looking mildly ashamed she’s laughing as hard as she is.Zane’s pitching the bridge of his nose – _what have I married into –_ but there’s a smile forcing its way out.  “I can’t.  I fucking can’t with you people.”

Beside him, the judge clears his throat.

“Fuck.  Okay.  Sorry, sir.”  Kelly straightens up, wipes his wet cheeks with the hem of his sleeve.  “Okay. We’re good.  Right, Lucky?”

“I  _was_  good, before _Tyler_ got involved –“

“ _Nick. Focus.”_

Nick clicks his mouth shut and nods.

“Now that that’s resolved,” the judge says tartly, and Nick hears a snicker from somewhere in the audience, “do you, Nicholas  _Reilly_  O’Flaherty take Kelly Abbott to your lawfully wedded husband?”

“Yes,” Nick says.  His heart is racing in his chest but it’s not fear, it’s happiness that’s got it jackhammering.  He grabs Kelly’s hands and squeezes, tight.  Kelly smiles back, bright and clear, his cheeks wet again.  “Yes, I do.”

“And do you, Kelly Abbott, take Nicholas Reilly O’Flaherty to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do,” Kelly whispers, his voice tight with emotion, and Nick can’t help it, he pulls Kelly close and kisses him.  When he pulls back Kelly laughs, pats his cheek.  “I do,” he says again, louder.  “God help us all.”

“God help us all,” Nick echoes.  His cheeks hurt, he’s smiling so wide.

“Do we have the rings?” the judge asks, and Ty and Owen step up.  When Ty presses the ring in Nick’s palm, Nick wraps his hand tight around the ring and Ty’s fingers.  Ty doesn’t say anything, just smiles and knocks the knuckles of his other hand against Nick’s chest before he steps away.  Owen’s got Kelly locked in a hug, whispering something in his ear that makes Kelly nod and sniffle.

“Repeat after me,” the judge says, and Nick takes Kelly’s hand again.  There’s an indentation where the ring’s been sitting for months already, and Nick rubs it with his thumb.  “With this ring, I thee wed.”

“With this ring, I thee wed,” Nick echoes, and slides the tri-colored band on to Kelly’s finger.   _Back where it belongs,_ he thinks.

“Kelly,” the judge says softly, and Nick gives Kelly his left hand.  Kelly’s hands are warm and steady, as they’ve always been.  “With this ring, I thee wed.”

“With this ring, I thee wed,” Kelly echoes, and slides the ring onto Nick’s finger.  It’s a simple platinum band with a thin line running through the middle, a dark green Nick realizes is malachite, matching the stone of his Claddagh ring.  He blinks hard against the sudden tears.

“Yeah?” Kelly says quietly, and Nick huffs out a wet chuckle.

“Yeah,” he manages, and Kelly grins.  “Yeah, Kels.  I love it.”

“Well, boys,” Mendoza announces, “I have to tell you, this is the  _strangest_  wedding I’ve ever officiated, but damned if you too don’t seem perfect for each other.  What that means for the rest of us, who the hell knows.  All I know is, you and me?” He points at Owen.  “Are  _even_.”

Owen flashes a grin and a thumbs up.  The judge nods.

“All right then.  By the power invested in me by the state of California, I do pronounce you married.”  He pauses, looks at them expectantly, sighing dramatically when they just blink back.  “Oh, seriously, now I have to tell you?  You may  _kiss your husband_.”

Nick blinks again, then turns to face Kelly.  “Your husband,” he breathes.

“Your husband,” Kelly breathes back, and kisses him.  Nick melts into it, presses in so close he can’t hardly breathe.  He’s vaguely aware of whistling and yelling and possibly crying around him, but what does it matter, because the only think he cares about is wrapped up in his arms. 

Kelly breaks off with a wet smack, his lungs heaving for the slightest bit of air.  “We’re married,” he gasps proudly, and Nick grins.

“Yeah, we are,” he agrees.  He feels satisfied, at peace, because it wasn't ever that Nick didn’t want to marry Kelly. 

He had just needed a little more time to sort the rest of it out. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I choose to believe that Kelly has, at one point or another, saved each of the Sidewinder boy's lives at least once, because he's Kelly, and he's a BAMF.


End file.
